Glee
by Bandelero-Casanova
Summary: Alfred Jones comes from an abusive family, Arthur's is just dead. Together they set forth to form a drama club where, maybe, they can find some sort of happiness - even if that wine-bastard keeps following Arthur around! FrUK, AmericaCanada, GerIta. AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Bandelero-Casanova's Return:**

Glee.

Chapter One:

Arthur Kirkland supposed that, not including himself, just about every person at Nation's High was a complete and utter dunderhead. Seriously. He couldn't help but roll his eyes as he watched the classroom bustle with stupidity; those Asian kids were dancing up the back - reminiscent of the late Michael Jackson, the two Italian twins were sobbing and throwing things at each other, and to top it off, that loud mouthed bastard, Francis Bonnefoy, was going on and on about how he had once again amazed his girlfriend last night with his sexual prowess. What was her name again? Arthur didn't care, not really. And he was fairly sure Francis didn't care too much either.

Green eyes scanned the room again, falling onto a stoic blonde figure right up the front. The person, about seventeen, maybe eighteen, was hunched over his desk, scribbling on paper as if his life depended on it. It was "The German", Ludwig, a boy of few words but exceedingly spectacular grades. Arthur wasn't sure if anybody had actually ever heard him speak more than four words at any given time, or, for that matter, convey any sort of emotion.

But still, he didn't seem like a moron. He seemed nice and quiet and clean. Arthur liked that. Maybe one day they would be friends? The British boy couldn't help but ponder such things as he watched Ludwig's back. Then, feeling Arthur's eyes upon him, the taller German boy turned around. For a split second their eyes met, blue and green locking onto each other and a look of sympathy and understanding passed between the two.

"Idiots" said Arthur's eyes, darting over to the rest of the class.

"Fools" said Ludwig's in agreement.

Ludwig then returned to his work, silently. To this Arthur could only let out a sigh, was there nobody intelligent who wanted to talk to him?

The rest of the day continued as such too. Arthur, notebook in hand at all times, wandered from class to class, tolerating idiots and trying his best to dodge Francis – who was now waltzing around the school with his girlfriend (a dark skinned girl from the Fishing Club) looking mortified behind him. But the day was drawing to a close; there was only one class left. Much to the green eyed boy's pleasure. Arthur's black sneakers squeaked a little as he walked to Maths, possibly his least favourite class in the whole wide world, but he'd more than tolerate it if it meant the end of another school day.

Actually, he didn't mind it in some ways, because the teacher was a real hound and made them all work in silence. Arthur loved silence.

Maybe he loved it because the school was always so noisy and chaotic?

Or maybe he loved it because, even in his own mind late at night, there was never silence. There was the school, there were the cars and buses and trains, there was the neighbours screaming and then there was his secret. Not his writing secret, because that wasn't a secret – everybody knew that Arthur loved to write. No, his real secret.

He could see things.

He could hear things.

Things that nobody else could see or hear.

Like ghosts...and unicorns. And a strange little sailor-suited gnome named Peter who lived in his old tree-house. Most of the time Arthur didn't mind these apparitions, even though he hated the noise and hated the lack of privacy, but they were friends and he enjoyed that well enough. Except for Peter; Peter wasn't a friend. He had taken control of Arthur's tree-house, proclaiming it his own land and country – Treeland.

Peter had even made up a flag, an anthem and a constitution.

Arthur hated Peter, just because he was so bloody annoying! Who sings "Treeland, oh Treeland, your leafy love is my home! We'll live on forever, I'll eat up all your acorns!" at 3 o'clock in the morning? Imaginary idiots, that's who.

Between imaginary idiots and real idiots, Arthur had no escape.

"Eh, if it isn't my favourite little booky-worm!" Francis chirped as Arthur pushed open the door to the class, he was five minutes early as per usual. It wasn't usual that Francis and his cronies be there though.

"What" Arthur snapped, "do you want now, frog?" How did that bastard become so popular anyway, Arthur wondered. Back when they had all gone to Nation's Primary, Francis was picked on constantly for being girly and wearing dresses. In fact, if Arthur remembered correctly, they had even been friends back then.

Maybe his secret wasn't so safe... he'd told Francis once. But that was years ago, the frog would never remember. He certainly never brought it up.

Thank her Majesty, the Queen.

Francis smirked, tapping a pencil against "The Spaniards" desk. Antonio was too busy staring out the window to bother noticing. "Oh, my, my, my... aren't we an angry little thing, cher? I just wanted to talk!"

"Pardon my French, but that's bullshit" Arthur retorted, smugly. Taking a seat. A rather large eraser hitting him in the back of the head.

"Don't worry about him, hun! He's a fucking faggot anyway" came a girl's voice. Fish-girlfriend's, Arthur presumed.

Francis didn't reply, he just sat quietly. A hand propping up his chin as he watched Arthur set to work – meticulously arranging his books and pens on his desk to that they were all accessible as well as aesthetically pleasing. Francis frowned a little.

They used to be good friends.

* * *

**Hey guys and girls, if you've ever read any of my stuff before, I'd like to apologise for my long long long hiatus. It was horribly long, actually. But I had to get my life in order - fanfiction was not a priority at all really, there were more important things I had to worry about. Now, though, I've got the time to have a shot at again, which is really nice, no!?**

**Please accept my apologies! I'll try and update and work on everything soon! Thank you!!**

**As for first time reader's - thank you for reading! This is my first APH fic, so tell me what you think?**

**I should note that the 'ships for this are: FrUK, USUK (FAMILY!!), USCan, GerIta, RoChu and more. Depending on how it goes really. Stay tuned!**

**--Bande.**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

"Fuck off, there's no way I'd bang a chick like here! Have you seen her teeth? She'd take your cock off, no sweat" laughed Alfred, punching Antonio lightly on the shoulder. The walk to the showers taking a little longer than usual – gosh, the coach had really gone hard on them today.

But it was the lead up to the season, and he wanted the players to be good. Football was serious at Nation's High. Well, football was serious all over the state.

Even if the players weren't serious.

"Serious? But have you seen those legs!?" Antonio gasped, waving his hand like a fan before his face. He was always so full of energy, but wasn't as hyperactive as Alfred was. "I'd love a piece of those legs!"

A laugh came from the behind them, the two friends turning around to see Heracles toddling up. "Antonio, you don't mean old gorilla-legs? Do you?" The Spanish teen's face turned beet red.

"She ain't no gorilla!" he howled in response, pushing Heracles into the showers – clothes and all.

"SPANISH BASTARD!"

"GREEK OLIVE!!"

"...What?"

Antonio sure wasn't the brightest crayon in the box. It especially showed in his insults.

Alfred though, he couldn't help but smile as his friends fought. He knew it was a sign of friendship. Or at least, he hoped it was. He let the thought slip away though, enjoying the hot spray that pelted down across his back. The water crawled over his skin, seeping into his hair, rolling down his face. It felt outstanding.

The pelting of water against the tiles drowned out all the noise from his teammates, the feel of it on his skin melted away all the stiffness and dirt, but best of all - the warm wet envelope hid him away. It swallowed him up and took him far, far away.

This had to be his favourite part of the day.

Even if he had to share it with a dozen other naked guys, in a locker room with chipped tiles and a basket of NOT fluffy towels.

Alfred would have loved fluffy towels.

But, being as cool as he was, he didn't really need them. He liked to get dressed fast anyway, lingering naked with a bunch of boys made you a sure-fire target for a towel-whipping. And that STUNG!

Pulling on his white t-shirt, Al turned to Antonio expectantly – "'Chu doin' this afternoon?" he said with a nod.

"Lovino's going to tutor me, I already told you three times, man" was the reply, making Al's face drop a little.

"You did?"

"Yes, three times" Heracles shouted from behind a locker.

"STOP LISTENING IN, YOU!" cried Antonio, a foot placed in his own locker and he tried to climb up over the metal divider. A fist curled up and waving at the Greek on the other side.

"Stop being STUPID!"

"I HATE YOU!"

"I HATE YOU MORE!"

"I HATE YOUR MUM!"

"...Oh, Antonio, that's just mean. She made you lunch last week" Heracles whispered, strolling out of the locker room lazily.

Antonio blushed. She _had_ made him lunch. Only because he had forgotten his own, Antonio had nearly cried too when he realised. Antonio's mother was so embarrassed – she'd made him walk a cake over as thanks later that evening.

Then Athena, Heracles' mum, had made Antonio stay for dinner too. It was so back and forth – the two boys were always so well fed that it wasn't funny.

Alfred would have loved to be a part of that, even more than he would have loved fluffy towels.

He rubbed his stomach hungrily, "right – home time for me, buddy!" clapping his hand on Antonio's back. "Have fun with the short little angry man!" Al sneered, poking out a tongue for fun.

"Antonio! Why aren't you dressed yet!? Do I have to call your mother!?" coach roared.

"No sir! Not again!"

Alfred was still laughing all the way home, kicking stones and jumping fences as he wandered through town. He lived pretty far away from the school, really, but catching the bus was out – he didn't really want anybody to know exactly where it was he lived.

Still, there were a few that knew. Antonio and Heracles knew. And, of course, Arthur Kirkland knew, because he was Alfred Jones' neighbour.

Well, they were almost neighbours.

Arthur lived in a house in front of Al's, with a high brick fence that separated the two. Arthur's house though, being a double storey and on a high block of land (in the presentable High Street, of the Upper Hill district), looked right down onto Alfred's house. Alfred used the term house lightly too, his place was more like a shack.

Car bodies filled with rust and dead rats littered the yard, the grass was overgrown and glass bottles poked out from between the mattered green patches. There were several dogs – not one of which Alfred liked, prowling around inside the property, which was cut off from the world by a chicken-wire fence. Alfred bowed his head as he walked down the street of shanties. No good came from looking up in this neighbourhood, you had to keep your eyes on the ground in you wanted to keep them in their sockets.

There was the familiar pitch in the concrete path, making Al stop and look up at the place he'd called home for all his young life. A sunken roof, battered white plaster walls and a rickety old door greeted him. Taped up windows and the smell of alcohol bid him a good afternoon too.

But it was the shouting that triggered something inside Al, it made his stomach curl up into a little ball.

"ALFRED JONES! Where the FUCK have you been?" screeched a woman from inside. Her call followed by the shattering of glass bottles.

She was blind drunk, again.

"Comin' Ma!"

* * *

**Hope you don't mind stupid!Spain, haha. He's adorable, really he is. I made him a little dopey in this, but there is a reason for it - a reason that may start with an "L" and end in a "ovino". Haha!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Music belted out over the fence and into Arthur's house. The loud, abusive, screams, however, were doing a good job at drowning the music out.

Arthur winced, turning from his chair in the library. His eyes gazing out the window to the house below.

"You fucking ungrateful brat! I can't believe I gave birth to a piece of shit like you!" screamed a woman, banging around pots and pans. Kicking doors and throwing chairs.

"Aw, shut your fat face Moreen! He's always goin'na be a fuckwit. Ain't got no sense on his shoulders, thinks the worlds all flowers and _cucumbers_!" Alfred's dad laughed, taking another swig from his place on the dirty torn sofa.

Alfred blanched, sitting on the ground where he'd fallen. "That doesn't even make sense!"

_Cucumbers?_

"SHUT UP!" screamed his mother again, raising a hand to hit him.

The father just sat forward, pointing an accusing finger at his son. "Ain't it you who always said you was gonna grow up to be a hero!? You reckon'd that you was gonna do all sorts of things. Well now you know what the world's really like, don't you, you little pisser. Ain't no goodness. All them fat cats sitting around and eatin' and shit on us poor folk. We don't get anything!"

Alfred just about screamed.

"You don't even work!"

His mother hit him.

"You can't expect anything if you don't try!"

She hit him again.

"I CAN be a hero!"

This time she kicked him, making Alfred choke.

"I HATE YOU SO MUCH!" he screamed, watching his father dash forward. Fists pummelling his gut and his mother's screams and rants in the background. A bottle smashed somewhere and all of a sudden they were fighting with each other and not Al.

Blood dripping down his nose, tears streaming down his face, Alfred Jones of Brick Street bolted. Out the front door (because the back one was nailed shut), over Rex, Terror and Killer the dogs, and –with hands splayed out like a cat – he jumped for the brick wall. Nails digging into the cracks, Alfred began to haul himself up the fence that divided his 'home' from his 'safety'. He edged closer and closer, slipping slightly as he heard his parents call out.

"ALFRED!?" his Dad bellowed.

The dogs were barking like crazy, pulling at their chains and lunging at Al's heels.

For a moment there he thought about giving up. Dropping down to the ground and either letting the dogs have him, or letting his Dad beat him senseless. Either way, he probably wouldn't go to school for a week. Then, while his head was down, something warm snaked over his fingers. Covering his hand.

Alfred looked up, finding two glowing green eyes above him.

"Are you just going to hang there all night, Alfred Jones?"

"N-no!" gasped Al, smiling as Arthur pulled him up to the top of the wall. They sat there together for a moment; dirty, worn out Alfred beaming over and the straight-laced, well dressed Arthur.

"Thanks bro"

"You're rather welcome".

*******

"_So...Peter lives in your tree?" Alfred asked questioningly, blue eyes firmly planted on the wavy branches of Arthur's tree._

"_Yes, he's taken it hostage. I've been trying for a rather long time to get it back" Arthur said, nodding to himself. His little browny-gold locks falling around his eyes. He tried so hard to beat them back._

"_You need hair pins!" cried Alfred, excitedly._

"_Do not! Those are for girls, you silly boy!" howled back Arthur. Girls were SO gross._

_The two smiled at each other, turning back to kick the soccer ball between them. Their tiny feet made passing the ball a challenge, aiming was thus totally out of the question. "You are not very good at this" Arthur said, sportingly. It felt good to be good at something._

_He watched Alfred run back and forth trying to kick the ball._

"_But it's hard! It rolls the wrong way!" Al sobbed, falling backwards onto his bottom. Tiny grubby fists rubbing at teary eyes as he choked back more sobs. Arthur felt a little shocked._

_Had he caused that? He certainly hoped not. Alfred was, though he never told him, his best friend. He'd be really upset if Al didn't want to play with him anymore._

"_Don't cry, please don't cry! I didn't mean it – you're getting rather good, you know. Practice makes perfect, I bet if you practice a little more you could be a super athlete!" Arthur muttered, rubbing little Alfred's back gently._

"_You mean it?"_

"_Yes! It'd be really fun too, I bet. You could play in competitions!" he added._

"_But how will I practice that much? I don't have my own ball" the chubby face of Alfred Jones fell again. He starred down at his feet. The ground was all muddy; the rains had started early this year._

_Maybe if he was really good, Santa would bring him a ball? Alfred dreamt._

_Arthur, from listening in on his parent's conversations, knew better than to dream such for Alfred._

"They're deadbeats" his mother would say. "We need to complain to the council – this isn't a safe environment for a child. It's not a safe environment for _their_ child!"

And his father would say back, "But where would they send that boy? That kind of family doesn't have enough money to even buy him a bus pass to his Aunt's home for the summer. I had that no good father asking me for ten dollars the other day, which I highly doubt went towards his son"

Arthur had edged in closer then, listening in hard. "Maybe we could take him? Arthur has always wanted a brother" mother added. There was an odd silence, when Arthur's father finally spoke it was in a hushed, croaky voice.

"But Molly, we agreed... no more children..."

"_You can borrow mine"_

_Alfred looked happy then, Arthur noted. "Serious?"_

"_Yeah, but...but you have to promise me something!" Arthur snapped, waving a finger at his neighbour._

"_Okay, sure. What?" Alfred had a toothy grin, only without the teeth. Little black holes in between baby teeth showed up in his smile – it was rather cute._

"_You have to be my little brother from now on. We shan't tell anybody either, it'll be our secret" the green eyed boy positively beamed, "We'll be secret brothers! I'll take care of you and you shall take care of me. No matter what!"_

_Sitting up on his heels, Alfred leant forward, wide-eyed. "Yeah? Secret brothers!? Can we, like, play games and go on treasure hunts?"_

"_We sure can. Also, because we're brothers now, we have to travel the world together and we have to marry girls that the other one likes" added Arthur._

"_Oh yuck, we have to marry girls!?"_

"_Not for a long, long time. And only ones we like"_

_It seemed like a fair bargain._

"_Wow, how long's that!?"_

"_Hm, oh I'd say that's at least three years!" Arthur said, holding up four fingers. Alfred gazed in wonder._

"_So we're going to be brothers forever then?"_

_Arthur smiled, patting Alfred's head – "That's what being brothers is about, silly"._

"_Awesome"._

* * *

**AN: OHMAH****GAWD, it's been so long since I wrote on FF that I forgot what a review-whore I am. Lol. I woke up this morning, logged on, saw I had 4 reviews (I don't know how people manage to get hundred of them!) and nearly whizzed mah pants I was so excited.**

**So thanks a bundle!! And, because I think it's nice, I'll reply to all reviews in the chapter following those reviews – you put in the effort to review, I may as well put in the effort to thank you whole heartedly.**

**To my first reviewer – **_**nekocele**_** - THANK YOU SO MUCH!! I plan on continuing; for once I actually have chapters done in advance! And **_**foxyaoi123**_**, thanks and yeah I'm thinking of having Greece and Japan in this (together).**

**Kind of unsure though, because I'm a SadiqHeracles shipper... so it may be TurkeyGreeceJapan?**

**It depends on popular demand, I think.**

_**PROKARIN-and-proud**_**; thanks so much for reviewing – I love stupid!Spain.**

**Which brings me to lucky number four! Faerichylde! You did hear a Antonio/Romano in the vicinity!! They'll be coming to a chapter near you~ *movie presenter voice*. And don't fret too much if you're not a huge AmericaCanada shipper - all pairings get a fair go in this (except for FrUK because I love it, so it'll probably get a little more attention! BIASED I KNOW!!)**

**THANKS AGAIN EVERYONE!!**

**Oh... and... did anybody catch on to the fact that Treeland is actually Sealand? Hehe. =D**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

"I think one of these days they'll probably glass me or something. You'll see my cut up face on the news and be all '_ohmahgawd'_!!" Alfred laughed, putting his hands over his mouth in a gag attempt at shock.

"That's really not very funny" Arthur grimaced, standing beside the now seated American. He gently placed a new packet of frozen peas on the other's head. "Better?"

"Shit loads"

"When did that even become a measurement?"

"About the same time NASA scientists realised you are a stupid old man" poked Alfred, screwing up his face at Arthur. Usually, Arthur would have asked what NASA scientists had to do with it, but for once he just let it drop.

"You should leave" he said solemnly. Alfred looked puzzled. "You should leave your house, I mean. Not here, you're always welcome here" Arthur was watching his feet. He was in grandpa styled slippers.

It's not like there was anyone around to stop him wearing such. His parents had died years ago.

Alfred just sighed.

"That's gonna happen anyway", now Arthur looked perplexed. He mouthed out a silent 'huh?' " The land – the whole street – has been sold to developers. We're too dirty and too loud, they want to replace the houses with those big new flash buildings that none of us can afford!"

"So?"

Alfred looked like he was going to cry.

"It's my home!"

"No it's not! What kind of home is it anyway? A home where your parents abuse you constantly, where you have to climb a bloody damned wall to escape them?" Arthur's blood curdled. There was something in it that sent shivers down Alfred's spine, cooling his own anger.

The American's chin hit his chest; "that about sums it up".

"I'm very sorry" – Arthur always spoke like a gentleman, even when he didn't feel like one. Alfred thought it was just the bee's knees.

"They want me to drop out of school, yo. Get a job just like they did, so we can try and afford a place" Alfred said, sticking a finger into his teacup – swishing around the cold contents, "I don't really want to. I'm dumb as dog shit, Iggy. If I don't stay in school, I'll wind up just like them".

Arthur couldn't remember when they'd officially stopped being brothers. He suspected it was all his fault though. He hadn't been the same after his mother had died, and when his father had killed himself soon after...

Things just got too difficult.

The voices and visions got too clear.

And Arthur just wanted it to be him and the fairies and the unicorns. And Peter, unfortunately.

No school, no friends, no anything.

Now things were a bit different, and part of Arthur wished he'd never pushed his friend away.

"_But you said we could always play! You said we were brothers!" Alfred stammered._

"_I don't want to be brothers! I don't want a brother! I JUST WANT MY MUM AND DAD BACK!" Arthur shoved Alfred hard, pushing him into the tree. From there Arthur could here Peter screaming and crying, terrified of an invasion – the noise only confused the small English boy more. Alfred, oblivious to Peter's howls, leapt up, crying. He flew up the makeshift ladder that connected the two yards._

"_Fine! I don't want to be a brother to a bully anyway!"_

_Arthur sank to the ground._

_He just wanted his parents back..._

"Then leave, leave properly. You can stay at your friend's houses for a little, right?" Alfred nodded, not looking Arthur in the eyes. "And, if you would like, I can talk to an old friend of Dad's! He runs a photocopy shop, I think he's looking for a weekend assistant". Part of Arthur was racing – he felt a little alive again.

He didn't want Alfred to leave.

Alfred grimaced, "Thanks". He wouldn't – Arthur knew that Alfred was one of those people that tried to push away any help thrown his way. He didn't like being a charity case.

"Please do it...Hero".

For the first time in several minutes, Alfred looked up. His eyes were red and puffy, his skin pale and the curled up ball in his stomach was still doing adrenaline fuelled spins deep inside him. He looked in pain – and not just from the bruises and cuts all over.

"Please, Hero" Arthur's voice was louder this time, and he tried to smile. Nearly crying as he did so. A lump formed in his throat.

Alfred hadn't heard that name in years.

"Okay".

Arthur shifted a little, picking up the silver tray on the coffee-table. They needed more tea. "You can stay here for a while", it was more of an order than a suggestion.

"Okay".

When Arthur left the room, Alfred burst into tears.

"_So, when I grow up I'm going to be a great writer, just like Shakespeare!" little Arthur said proudly, jumping off the local swings in the park._

"_Who's he!?" Al asked._

"_I don't really know – but Dad says he's the best writer ever. He also said that Shakespeare was English, like me!" a little surge of pride zoomed through the whole two feet of Arthur's body. He was very small for his age._

"_Oh, okay. That sounds cool!" Alfred pretended. He really thought it sounds lame. "When I grow up, I'm going to be a police officer!" Alfred said, grinning, making a gun with his fingers._

_Arthur just looked puzzled. "What?"_

"_A police office...you know, they fight bad guys"_

"_I know what the police is! Just... I thought you were going to be a super athlete, like we decided?" Arthur fidgeted a little._

_Alfred went quite._

"_Well... I was going to. But, see, there's a lot of bad people out there – and lots of people who don't have nobody to save them! So I want to be a police officer, I want to protect people" Alfred said faintly, smiling over at his brother._

_Arthur beamed, "That sounds great! I can write all about it! You can be a hero in my books!"_

"_Really!!?"_

"_Yeah! From now on I'm going to call you Hero!"_

"_And I'm going to call you Shakespeare!"_

"_...No"._

* * *

**Whooa~! I got a rather pleasing amount of feedback, thanks everyone!**

**Thanks again _foxyaoi123_~!**

**_LeriaCossato_, I'm glad you like it! I can read America/England as a romantic pairing, but I much rather them as family. They're just so adorable. Plus, FrUK is HOT!**

**And thanks _Nerica_ for the three reviews – it was great to see which parts of the chapters you liked! Feedback is great, haha. Oh, and don't worry too much about stupid!Spain, he's not a complete idiot, and he'll wise up quick.**

**_SecretSparkle_, glad you like it so far too, and thanks for the feedback. Turkey/Greece is so cute, seriously. Haha, spoiler much, but I've already briefly introduced Sadiq in the following chapters. (Ah, I think it's chapter 7? I forget!). It's just going to be a battle over who gets Heracles, I think.**

**I don't know who to pair him with!! LOL.**

**_Adreaeb182_, thank you! And I know, poor Alfred! He's had it tough, really. Mind you, there's characters who've had it worse.**

**Gosh I'm good for spoilers, aren't I?**

**Haha! But yes, I love Arthur!!**

**And my bestest friend-twin forever, _show. me. the. stars_ (who does good Naruto and Ghost Hunt stuff if anybody's looking for that), convinced me I need to show my homeland love. So what do you all think of Australia making an appearance?**

**I shall name him Bruce.**

**=D**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

"I've had a brilliant idea" Merle said in her teeny-tiny fairy voice, "you're going to love it, Iggy!"

Arthur didn't look so impressed, rather, he ignored her and continued to pour more hot water into the teapot. Being honest with himself, this wasn't the right kind of tea to be serving right now... but he was out of the other kinds. He frowned – it'd been a while since he'd been to the shops too. How long had he been living on scones, biscuits and tea?

Far too long.

"Stop ignoring me!" Merle yelped, kicking Arthur's earlobe. He swatted her away. "Gosh, you're being so rude! We talk ALL the time when you haven't got other smelly people around".

"Shhh!" he hissed in reply, pushing Merle closer to the bench. "You're being noisy, you twat". Merle, in her tiny black dress and her tiny pink ribbons, blinked. Her little black bob-cut hair bounced around. She wasn't a very brightly coloured fairy, even she'd admit. "I don't want to cause a scene. You know I'm the only person that can see you, so just behave, okay?" Arthur pleaded.

"No"

"Why not!?" gasped Arthur, trying to straighten up all the cups and spoons Merle was kicking. Her feet flew around the bench-top, scattering everything around, giving Arthur what he knew was the start of a nasty headache. "PLEASE?"

"Not until you hear me out!" Merle snarled, baring her little pearly teeth at Arthur. She couldn't help but look past him too, growling at the blonde intruder sitting in her lounge – honestly, why did _HER_ Arthur have somebody like that in their house?

Arthur gave in, "Alright... but be quick, the tea will go cold".

Merle smiled.

"You're lonely – I don't know why, because you have Peter and I, not to mention Mr. Unicornopolis" she said. Arthur looked at her, a little horrified.

And why did she need to drag Mr. Unicornopolis into this?

"You want some of those real people friends? But you're not very good at just going up to people and asking, right? So, I've got it all worked out! You form a drama club; you told me just the other evening that they're closing a bunch of the clubs at school because they don't have enough members... everybody will be forced into the new club!" Merle wasn't very good at explain but Arthur was starting to catch on.

"That's preposterous!" laughed Arthur, leaning over to fish more biscuits from his nigh empty tin.

"No it's not!"

"Why on earth would I want to construct such a club? It'd be suicide" muttered Arthur, angrily. Merle was meant to be the smart one in this imaginary menagerie.

"You'd get to make friends...and, well, they'll need somebody to write scripts and direct it, won't they? You'd be very good at that!" Merle chirped away to herself, twirling around on a biscuit. Arthur placed it, with her on, back into the tin.

"Hey!"

"I'll let you out when you make more sense" he said, putting the lid back on – a tiny crack providing enough air for the little fairy. Merle growled and snarled; Arthur just went back to ignoring her. Picking up the silver tray, he headed back to the lounge.

There, Alfred was waiting for him.

"Dude... were you talking to yourself?" he asked, an eyebrow raised up high.

"No! Don't be so stupid!" blushed the English boy, green eyes locked on the kitten-pattern teapot. Shit! He thought. How could he have let Alfred hear that?

"I thought I heard you mention something about the clubs at school?"

Arthur paused – there was eagerness in the other boy's eyes, Alfred wanted to know – wanted to be a part of whatever Arthur was pondering, poor Arthur didn't think he could refuse a face like that. "Ah... yes. Well, I'm sure you've heard already, a few of the clubs at school are closing because of insufficient numbers and such. They're going to need a new club to go to, don't you think?"

Alfred stopped to think, "I suppose so. Though they could just join another old club"

"Oh, they won't want to but! If they didn't join THAT club back then, why would they join it now?"

Alfred nodded – Arthur always said things in a way he understood. It was like picking vanilla icecream, then being told they had none and you had to pick another – if you didn't want another flavour when you wanted vanilla, why would you want one now that there was no vanilla? Frankly, Alfred would have rather gone without.

Actually... he usually did. He usually went without dinner most nights.

His tummy grumbled.

"Have a biscuit, you dolt".

"Can I join your club?"

"What about football?" blinked Arthur.

"That's okay – it's considered a subject! This would be my first proper club!" Al smiled, big and toothy and fully of cheesy goodness. Arthur nearly laughed.

It was just like when they were little.

"Alright, but there's going to be singing and acting, Alfred. I won't have you messing around like a silly child and making fun of my work!" Arthur was rather serious now, "Plus, with that job I'm going to get you, you're going to have a lot of work on your plate. You'll have to knuckle down while you're here".

Al's smile grew a little wider.

"Okay".

Somewhere in the middle of the smiles and the light hearted laughter, both of the boys fell silent. Alfred still had no home, no money and –as far as he was concerned- no future. His stomach twisted back into a little ball.

He dismissed himself, heading up to the guest room to sleep. He hadn't been there in years, but wouldn't have Arthur show him the way – he wasn't a stranger, after all.

Arthur, however, felt like a stranger. Alfred, despite everything, was still warm and kind and loving. Arthur wasn't like anything that he used to be. He wasn't little, wasn't fun loving and adventurous. Arthur was just delusional and awkward. He shivered, holding his tea closer. On top of it all he was going to make his own drama club...

Why did he let fairies talk him into things?

* * *

**AN: Thanks guys, sorry the OC-fairy, it's just there as filler. Just to get the drama club kinda rolling! ****Haha, aw, I'm so glad you all liked the Shakespeare line!! ****So here goes my loving thanks:**

**_Kami011_ – haha, I'm so glad you like Peter. Sealand is awesome. ****_Gavvers720_, YAY! And I love France too, so much, so so much. He's pretty, smart, perverted... what more could a fangirl want? Oh, and glad you like my style. ****_Nerica_ – your consistent reviews are pleasing, they give me a fuzzy happy feeling. I'm so glad it makes you laugh and that you enjoy it so far. =D ****_Syous99_ – bwaha, I know right? Iggy's so cool.**

**_Thelivinggirl_ – It was hard not to suddenly go all USUK on this fic, just like about two nights ago I was tempted to go all CubaCanada. But I resist temptation well. ****_HappeDaez_ – you have the best avatar ever. I lol'd for like two minutes straight then linked your profile to some friends so they could too. It's so WIN. Glad you liked!!**

**_Andraeb182_ – Heracles will come soon! Chapter 7, I think. And aw, your story was sweet, and I bet you could be an amazing writer (I checked your profile and you've done a HEAP of fics... but I can't read them because I'm poorly educated and only speak English. Sorry!! But keep up the excellent work!!) Plus, you're studying medicine!? That's AMAZING!! ****_Inkie_ – totally cracked a smile when you said "WIN" haha, glad you enjoyed! ****_Foxyaoi123_ – Oooh, see I like PruCan, but it can't happen in this story (for certain reasons), but if I stay at a while then I might give it a shot one time?**

**_Kezi-chan_ – Yosh! Glad you like it, and Treeland is such an obscure idea but I just couldn't resist. I really couldn't. Hm, you are making an interesting suggestion... New Zealand, aye... reckon he'd be a Maori? I'd love to see that! ****_Sassy_ – LOL! Yes, Bruce is a bit... hm. And Cody is gross, ew. But there was a suggestion for Angus, and I'm likin' that!**

**Right guys, well, a friend said I should wait between updates ... but that's just bullshit. I'm too impatient!**

**I won't make you wait long. ****Next one up within 36 hours.**

**-Bande.**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six:

Alfred was positively pleased – today was MUCH better than yesterday. Yesterday he was tired, sore, hungry and practically abandoned by his parents. Today was easily better, and it was only the morning too. The blue eyed American tried, best he could, to hide his grin – sure, breakfast was only a bowl of cereal with a lashing of milk... but it was the thought that counted. And clearly it counted; Alfred's bowl was filled much higher than Arthur's, and, if he wasn't mistaken, Arthur's breakfast had a particularly dry crunch to it.

Part of Al felt bad for putting Arthur out like this, but the rest of him (the hungry part of him) tucked in. He hadn't had Fruit Loops in so long. He hadn't had them since the last time he'd slept over Arthur's, actually. And that was, what, eight years ago?

The morning news played on the television, Arthur kept the volume low, turning it a little lower when the programme finished. "Can we watch Hannah Montana now?" Alfred asked sleepily, looking over from his patch on the Turkish rug by the coffee table to Arthur in his favourite chair.

The dark-blonde teen just blinked. He was not a morning person.

He was not a morning person who liked morning people.

Alfred was a morning person.

The kind that liked Hannah Montana.

*******

Ludwig, "The German", was also a morning person. He was up at a quarter to six, showered by ten to six, out the door and commencing his morning run by five to six and, to top it off, back home again with the morning paper by seven – only to shower again. Sometimes, if the weather was looking fine (or if it was still dark and a little scary) he would take his dogs.

They were very nice dogs, but for some reason people seemed afraid of them. Maybe it was because they were big? Pedigree Alsatians were a little large, he supposed.

The blonde boy loved his dogs very much. Sure, he had to clean up after them and take care of them a lot, but it was worth it. They never teased him, disrupted him or annoyed him. It was a nice relationship. So, on the days when he did take the dogs with him, Ludwig would return home at half past seven – after stopping at the Dog Park.

They deserved to have some fun while out.

Ludwig huffed, readjusting the headphones in his ears as he rounded the corner of his street. The dogs ran besides him happily.

Sometimes, he thought, he wouldn't mind having a bit of fun too.

That thought flew out the window though as he approached home.

"Gilbert! BROTHER!" He yelled, bolting down the road to the car parked shabbily in the driveway – a pale haired young man half hanging out the open door. As Ludwig approached he was filled with dread. Gilbert, the boy with a shocking case of albinism, was always causing him grief.

He used to cause his father grief too, but never this much.

"Gilbert? Gil?" Ludwig repeated, letting the dogs loose in the yard, his knees bent as he carefully pulled Gilbert back up into the driver's seat. "Are you alright?" he spoke so softly, but there was still that rough German accent in his voice.

"Yeaah~ I'm awesome" smiled Gilbert, eyes flickering between open and shut. He reeked of whiskey.

Ludwig gagged, a frown even bigger than his usual one stole its way across his face, "you're drunk. You drove home drunk. I can't believe you'd be so stupid, Gilbert".

"Naw, it's not stupid if you make it back okay!" Gilbert was so loud when he was like this, the blonde just wanted to get him out of sight.

"You're going to be the death of me"

"Already the death of Pap"

The two fell silent.

"I want beans on toast..."

Ludwig proceeded to drag his older brother inside, cursing himself as he did. Ludwig _always_ had to be the responsible one. "Ja, I'll get you some _soon_. Just come on".

Inside – one serving of beans on toast, three servings of porridge with dog-safe lactose-free milk, and an apple with a shot of wheatgrass and a protein shake later - Ludwig was frustrated, smelt of booze, covered in vomit and trying desperately to get ready for school.

Between shrieks from Gilbert for help and the strictness of the schedule Ludwig had imposed on himself for the last four years of his young life, the poor blonde was working himself into a mess. "This is nuts" he muttered, trying to heave a naked, wet, Gilbert onto a bed. Gilbert just groaned.

"Hah, I'm sorry, I do this everytime~" Gil laughed, brushing back his silver-white hair. His normally vivid red eyes were half closed.

"Forget it"

"Naw, I'll buy you dinner tonight. Chinese good? Maybe you want Mexican? I love a good taco, especially the ones with lots of sour cream, those are my favourite!" Gilbert rattled on for a while, Ludwig payed no attention. He was too busy.

Cleaning, washing, showering, throwing books into his bag, making his own lunch. He was ready.

"You should actually go to school, you know" he said in course German to his brother, smiling slightly as he leant against the doorframe.

"I know" snorted Gilbert, "but they don't want me there anyway. Assholes".

"Because you have to _try_ when you're there, brother. You know, do your work and participate in class!" Ludwig looked at his watch – he stilled had time. Slowly, he crept into the room.

Gilbert, still wet and naked, rolled his head over to look at the prim and proper blonde. He had to smile. Ludwig, for all Gilbert's teasing and taunting, was a good boy – a good brother. He watched his younger walk closer; formal slacks and a clean white shirt (freshly ironed), a leather satchel and smart shoes. Ludwig was a good boy.

The smile faded a little as the blonde got close.

"Bro, you never participate in class" Gilbert snickered, looking up at the ceiling again.

"Pfft, as if you'd know – I always answer questions and do my work. Unlike you, you're getting too lazy. Too much trouble" laughed Ludwig, poking his brother in the side with a solid finger. Gilbert squirmed, trying to bat the blonde away.

"Eh, yeah, but you don't hang out with anybody! Do you even have any friends?" said Gil snidely.

"..."Ludwig didn't know what to say, so he just stood there.

"You don't do anything fun, do you!? What a killjoy!" Gilbert was really digging into him now, his own finger reaching out to prod Ludwig in the belly, just about his belt. Ludwig, for all his grades and athleticism, looked down – Gil was kind of right.

Gilbert also had strange marks on his arm?

Ludwig blanched, arms shooting out to grab his brother's extended one. "Shit, let go! Fuck off, West! Fuck off!" screeched Gilbert suddenly, flailing about. Ludwig pressed him down into the bed, holding up his arm into the light.

There were tiny pinpricks, all around the veins.

Without saying anything, he threw down the arm.

"I have to go to school".

"Bro! Bro! It's just once, I swear, I've been clean for ages. They talked me into it, you gotta believe me..."

Ludwig paused mid stride, briskly going back to the bed. Gilbert nearly cried for joy.

"Aw West, aw, you're so good to me!"

The blonde pushed away Gilbert's grabbing hands. He bent over, lightly brushing his lips over Gil's forehead.

"When you clean up your act, then I'll believe in you".

Gilbert began to blubber; Ludwig left the room.

* * *

**AN: I sprained my ankle. Falling over in a public toilet.**

**Because I am just that awesome.**

**But yes - I'm sorry that I've done this to Gilbert! Poor thing he is, but having him like this may be essential the future storyline.**

**So, thank you to Syous99 (Gawd, I'm so glad you liked the fairy... words cannot explain how stressed I was about having a made up side character!). Thanks Andreaeb182, glad you liked it and I'd be happy to Beta you anytime! Thank you Kami011 (is it strange that I imagine Kami from Dragonball Z on a laptop when I read your name? LOL), haha, I think this might be under 36 hours – but I'm bad at maths, so it doesn't count.**

**Also, thank you foxyaoi123! And Sweetpea12767, glad you like it thus far!! And CocoxLadybat, hope you enjoyed it, stay tuned!**

**EDIT: Cardboard boxes pointed out an error! I wrote "Da" instead of "Ja" - this is what I get for writing late at night. Sorry guys! It's fixed now.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven:

Antonio had a headache – which was kind of good because then at least he knew he had a head. Which always worried him; Heracles, once when they were little, had told him there were diseases where your limbs would just drop right off. It had given the poor kid horrible nightmares. Ever since then Antonio had developed a strict regime of checking all his body parts were where he left them the night before.

If only that had included his body as a whole though... because right now, he had no idea where he was.

One eye open, turned on his side, the Spanish boy looked at the window. It wasn't his window. He could tell because it didn't have those glow-in-the-dark star stickers all around it.

These weren't his sheets, because his sheets had racing cars printed on them.

And that wasn't his collection of Italian CDs – because, well, he listened to the classics: Backstreet Boys, Spice Girls, Robby Williams, and of course, Aqua.

In retrospect – Antonio decided he needed to redecorate his room. This one looked much more adult than his did.

"Shit" he whispered. What had he done now? He paused, listening to the obvious sound of faint snores behind him

Gingerly he rolled over. Eyes growing wide, he tried not to scream.

He was lying in bed with Lovino Vargas.

Wait...He was lying in bed with Lovino Vargas!?

Lovino, with his little curl of hair and mouth hanging droopily open, was shirtless. Antonio shifted. Gasping, he grabbed his own chest – he was shirtless too!

Now, the Spanish boy had a nasty trait of sleeping naked, though he only ever did so in his own home. Oh, and Heracles' home, but that didn't count because it was as good as home to him. Antonio took a few minutes to compose himself; he slid his hand over his lap, pulling up the white cotton sheets.

Yeah... he was naked.

He dropped the covers and put his head in his hands. "Shit!" he gasped.

"Shit!" he said again, looking over at Lovino. They... they hadn't... you know... had they?

Antonio lifted up the sheet on that side of the bed, Lovino's tanned skin shivering slightly in the morning cool.

He was naked too.

"Aw, god dammit!" Antonio cursed, falling back into the pillows.

He hadn't done anything this stupid in a while!

"Eh, god damn what, you idiot?" Lovino muttered suddenly, turning around. He had the look of a grumpy bear – even if he was cute and little and Italian. With a small smile, he placed a hand on Antonio's chest.

That was the last straw for the Spanish teenager. The camel's back broke.

"OHMAHGAWD I JUST FORGOT!" lied Antonio quickly, jumping out of bed and pulling on some pants, "I promised to walk Heracles to school today – he had to drop some of his cats off at the vets, and like, you know what cats are like!! Ahaha!!" He must have looked insane.

But that didn't stop him from bolting.

And before Antonio could fully register what he was doing, he was half way to Heracles house, tears running down his face.

The big old white house came into view as he turned another corner.

Several cats skidding out of his way as he ran, barefoot and shirtless.

"MUUUMMM!" he'd called Athena his Mum as long as he could remember, she let him too. With a flying kick, he flew through the flywire door and into the kitchen. Regaining his breath as he watched Athena, who had been making breakfast, scream and fly back against the fridge.

"EEEEAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" she made the sign of the cross with her fingers and thrust it at him.

"Mum!?" he sobbed.

"Antonio?"

"I think I've made a big mistake!"

"...Oh god".

Antonio wasn't sure which the bigger mistake was though; sleeping with Lovino, or running away when he woke up the next morning.

From the shadows of the hallway, Heracles watched. He couldn't believe Antonio would be so stupid – well, actually, he kind of could. But he knew there was one person who could fix this up.

Nearly silently, he crept back to his room.

The Greek boy turned on his computer – a big old dusty PC that he didn't care about upgrading. Sitting down, he logged on to his instant messenger.

_SUVOLAKI-LOVER says: Oh man, I need some advice!_

_Nihon1991 says: Good morning Heracles-kun, how might I be of assistance?_

_SUVOLAKI-LOVER says: Haha, ah, you gotta promis not to tell first!_

_Nihon1991 says: Of course, I would not tell a private conversation to others._

_SUVOLAKI-LOVER says: Great! Well, haha, you won't believe this but, it's got to do with Antonio._

_Nihon1991 says: ...what has he done this time?_

Heracles smiled – Kiku was always there for sound advice. While Heracles could often provide good advice himself, he had been told that he was too in-the-clouds for some people. His thoughts drifted too far and became obscure, apparently.

Kiku was down to earth.

Except for his fascination with giant robots.

Heracles' smile fell a fraction, a tiny orange light beeped and another window popped up on the screen.

_TuRkEY-wAnTs-Yo-VITAL-Regins says: Yo! Hercles, mah man. Sup? Missin yu man._

"Where's the block button again?" Heracles grunted.

*******

"So, remember, don't tell anybody we're living together right now... can you imagine the rumours that would go around the school?" Arthur repeated, giving Alfred a steely gaze as they walked into the school building together.

Al sighed, "I know! Jeez, what are you, my mum?"

"You wish"

Alfred did kind of wish... Arthur had let him not only watch Hannah Montana this morning, Arthur had let him sing along.

"_Be-est of BOTH WORLDS!" sung Alfred, into his spoon. Arthur looked like his eyes were going to pop out._

"_We have to get ready for school!"_

"_But...Arthur... It's Miley. Miley Cyrus"._

"_Who cares!?"_

"_DON'T SPEAK ABOUT MY FUTURE WIFE THAT WAY!!"_

The taller American boy just laughed, "Oi, what are they going to say about it anyway? It's not so weird for two guys to live together!" he was so innocent sometimes.

Arthur smirked.

"I'm as camp as a row of tents, Alfred. Everybody knows it. I'm just looking out for you here". Which was true, Arthur couldn't imagine the things that Francis would say about them behind their backs. Nothing which would be of any benefit to the struggling football player, he was sure.

They were nearly at the main hall, where they would have to part. Scoffing, Alfred grabbed Arthur by the arm – pulling him closer – "You'd totally be the wifey!" he laughed, before bolting off.

"Don't forget this afternoon, you git!!"

* * *

**AN: Help a confused girly out – is it Lovino or Romano? ****Seriously****, I thought it was Lovi, and the sites I frequent say Lovino... but, then there's other fanart/fics that say Romano! I AM SO CONFUSED. O__O;**

**Totally reveals that I haven't been an APH-lover for all that long... ugh.**

***********

**NOW - Let's play a game.**

**The first person to guess my favourite pairing ****WINS**** a **_**ShamWOW**_**...ah, I mean... wins a oneshot of any APH pairing they like (and I totally do lemon, haha).**

**Why? Because I have two weeks of holidays left. I have to make them awesome!**

**Just post your guess down the bottom of the review (if you're going to submit one), thanks.**

**And a big thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. I'd mention you all but these things are getting too long!**

**THANK YOU!! =D**

**Oh, and have a good day too!**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight:

The lunchroom was chaotic, as per usual. And, like clockwork, students – being social creatures with unwritten social codes- made their way from the canteen to the tables, sitting in their regular spots. Alfred Jones was also a creature of habit, so as he emptied his pockets looking for some change to rustle together some form of lunch, he was rather shocked to find a ten dollar bill when really there should have been a safety pin and a piece of gum.

Maybe a crayon on occasion too.

"Iggy?" he wondered, sadly. This could not become a regular thing. He didn't want to be this big a burden on the English kid.

Alfred, with his stomach grumbling louder than Winnie the Pooh's, accepted the mysterious note graciously – not knowing that it wasn't from Arthur at all. But still, it was a burger and a coke that he hadn't been able to afford before.

The boy grinned. "Food!" he laughed, just about crashing into the person behind him.

"I love burgers!" Alfred was just about salivating on himself.

There was a slight giggle behind Alfred, another blonde boy tried to look away, blushing profusely. The large polar bear shaped backpack on his front was being just about hugged to death.

"You're welcome" he whispered, picking up his own tray and heading off in the opposite direction.

Alfred, being oblivious and awesome, laughed his way through the crowds of people to his table, sitting, like he did every day, besides Antonio. He was already chomping into his beloved burger when Heracles joined them.

"Antonio, you alright?" the Greek asked, lowering his head. Antonio was just about lying on the table. His head on his brown paper lunch bag – his second lunch on the tray besides him.

Antonio always ate two lunches.

Antonio always ate.

His mother had stopped making him eggs for breakfast because it was too expensive – now she made him six grilled tomatoes with toast with a litre of milk, and a granola bar for the walk to school. As for lunches, well, Antonio usually had the one made by his mum, which was two sandwiches and an apple, plus a sweet cake and a banana from Athena, and on top of that he usually bought himself a bowl of hot chips and a strawberry milk at the canteen.

And all of that was nothing compared to his dinner.

Yet for the first time since he had his appendix out in the sixth grade (where Heracles had cried profusely), Antonio didn't want to eat.

"I'm fine".

Alfred turned to him, "sure? You don't look so fine".

"I'm fine. Really".

Heracles bit his lip.

"I heard what you told Mum this morning" he said, softly. Alfred looked at his friends. Had something gone on without him?

"Eh?"

"Oh no, really?" Antonio sighed, pulling his head off the table. There was a perfect nose sized mark in his sandwich bag now.

"Yeah, well, bits of it. So spit it out, you bastard. What can you tell my Mum, but not tell your two best friends?" Heracles was leaning in really close. He knew Antonio had slept with somebody last night, somebody who might very well be a member of the same sex.

The Spanish boy sat still, before gently leaning in, drawing his friends in closer.

"So, remember how I was going over to Lovino's to study yesterday?" Alfred and Heracles nodded. "Uh... well, this morning I woke up in his bed".

"What's so bad about that, we used to have sleepovers all the time!" Alfred laughed, putting his hands over his eyes. For a second there he'd been really worried.

"Eh, you idiot!" Antonio stammered, face burning. "I woke up in his bed naked. With Lovino. Who was _also_ naked". The table was silent, Alfred and Heracles looked at each other.

"Together?" Al asked.

"Yesss" Antonio hissed out, dropping back down onto his lunchbag. "Together... _naked_... in a bed..."

"At least it wasn't on somebody's lawn!" Heracles offered with a shrug, turning Alfred into a laughing mess on the bench.

"Shut up you BASTARD!"

Nobody seemed to notice as the small Asian boy approached, breaking free from the dozen other Asian kids. Short black hair and a clean ironed black outfit, Kiku was a perfect example of a proper Japanese student.

He stood directly at the end of the table, watching –in a confused sort of way – as Antonio began to choke the hysterically laughing Heracles, and Alfred attempted to eat while crying.

"Apparently this general area has one of the highest homosexual populations within the state, alongside a very multicultural population" he said confidently, pleased when all three teenagers turned to him.

Antonio dropped Heracles.

Heracles tried to hand-sign to Kiku to RUN LIKE THE WIND.

Alfred tried not to laugh again.

"HERACLES, WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN TELLING PEOPLE!!?"

"N-nothing. Kiku was just giving some advice, jeez!"

The Japanese boy ignored them, sitting besides the brown haired Greek. He began unpacking his bento, whispering "itadakimasu" as he snapped his chopsticks.

He liked it here.

"S-so what if this place is full of fags, what's it got to do with me?" Antonio finally said, leaning in so close to Kiku that their noses nearly touched. Alfred fought the urge to lean into the conversation and say 'well, duh, you are one'.

Antonio's breath was hot and smelt of tomatoes, his teeth grinding against eachother as he glared at Kiku. Strangely, the Japanese boy didn't move back. "Well, I assumed that you were of that demographic – according to what Heracles-kun told me this morning" Antonio shot his friend a filthy look.

"If you are not, then I at least hope that your relations with Vargas-san were, how do you say, consensual? It would not be nice if it was rape" Kiku took another bite of rice, savouring the taste.

Antonio looked like he was about to die.

"HE DID NOT RAPE ME!!" he screamed, standing up and throwing his sandwiches across at the Asian. Being part ninja (or so Alfred guessed), Kiku dodged it. Leaving Antonio standing in the middle of the hall with the entire school gazing across at him in horror (Not to mention two sandwiches short!).

Somewhere across the room Lovino slunk beneath his table.

"Ve~ didn't you ask first, Lovi?" laughed Feliciano innocently, looking under the table at his twin.

"Oh fuck off".

* * *

**AN: Man~! Nobody's guessed my favourite pairing yet! (But all good tries so far! Haha!) I shall give you a clue.**

**HINT: They both have this in common: red, or rather, something that links them to the colour red.**

**Gawd I hope that's not too vague... =___=;**

**Also, yeeeees, there will be RoChu. YAY!!**

**-===-===-===-**

**...and thanks so much for that help with the Romano/Lovino question!! Everybody explained it, and as I read the reviews I nearly smacked myself in the face. How silly am I? It seems a little obvious after everyone explained it.**

**I learn something new everyday!**

**AND HAPPY VALENTINES DAY!!**

**Thankyou~ and goodnight. ^^**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine:

If there was one thing that Ludwig struggled with, it was English class. But he supposed it was like that for a lot of the students – the place was very diverse culturally, so he wasn't the only person about who didn't speak English as a first language. Let alone American.

What exactly _was_ a Sloppy-Joe?

Who was Joe? And why, he wondered, was this Joe so sloppy?

There were so many unanswered questions, but for the moment Ludwig was just trying to fill out the ones on the sheet in front of him.

_Question: Give two examples of an oxymoron._

Ludwig was baffled. Firstly, that wasn't a question, it was an order. Seriously though, he'd done harder stuff than this, but for some reason the logical part of his brain just wasn't working right now. It could have had something to do with the fact that his brother was clearly back to his old habits, it could have been that he forgot to take the tag off his new pants and was getting a rash (he would have to go to the bathroom soon, for sure. He didn't want this to look like herpes or something – Gilbert would pick on him for hours), or, finally, it could have had something to do with the fact that the whole class was in uproar.

"WHAT!? You don't think that something happened to that Spanish guy, do you? He's so amazing on the field – why would anybody try to hurt him?" somebody gasped down the back.

An Asian kid with a strange little curl piped up, "No! They didn't try and 'hurt' him – apparently it was rape!" He then went back to drawing naked anime styled characters over his assessment.

"Somebody raped Antonio?" Roderich, the musical prodgie from Austria asked. He never gasped like the rest, it wasn't proper.

"You are all idiots... he said it wasn't. He probably just slept with somebody!" somebody else snapped.

"Oh... eh, that's nothing new" the Korean kid didn't even look up.

"...the guy is still as thick as a brick, I don't care what he slept with, I pity it".

Lovino Vargas, sitting as close to the door as he could, slunk down in his chair. A reassuring hand placed on his arm by Feliciano.

"Ve~ relax."

Lovino snorted – that was easy for Feliciano to say, the only time he had ever been 'stressed' was when he couldn't find any pasta in the house.

Back at the front of the room Ludwig sighed. Weren't there better things to discuss? He could write a list in his head just about, mind you, he didn't actually know what the topics involved per se – he just knew that people talked about them. Like Gossip Girl which was apparently a television show, as was something called True Blood (but he thought that sounded far too strange to investigate). And there was also some sort of phenomenon going on called Shuffling – all those Asian kids were into it.

"Silence!" boomed the teacher, looming somewhere before Ludwig. The class fell back into silence, heads down and pens scribbling away.

About time too, thought the German boy.

He let out another sigh – he was doing that an awful lot. He had reason to though, the class was ten minutes in and he'd only managed to do three questions on the sheet, this was troubling. Ludwig was a solid A student.

Even solid A students have problems though; the blonde frowned, maybe he should have taken the day off? It wasn't wise to leave Gilbert by himself, not in the state he was in. He could cause all sorts of trouble.

"Alright – we're going to work through the first five questions now. Anybody up for question one?" the teacher suddenly announced, making the class jump.

Ludwig tried to look invisible.

A light vibration in his pocket sending a jolt through his lower body. It went off again, this time though, the vibrating object hit the metal leg of the desk – making that horrible noise that easily identified it as a mobile phone, placed on silent, but still with vibrate turned on.

The teacher – as well as half the class – looked over.

"S-sorry!" gasped Ludwig, pulling the phone out as quickly as he could. The teacher's smouldering glare on him the whole time.

Just as Ludwig was about to turn the mobile off, he saw the name on the screen.

It was Gil.

"..." he stared at it for a moment. The teacher made a "hmph!" noise, trying to gain the blonde's attention, but Ludwig was preoccupied.

Swallowing a lump, Ludwig hit the green call button.

"Ja?" he answered, trying to block out the slamming of the teacher's ruler on one of the desks.

"Shit, man, West... fuck I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry. I don't know what to do, man. Like, I really don't!" Gilbert was crying, his breathing ragged and his speech broken.

Ludwig stiffened up.

"_Where are you? What's wrong? Gilbert, answer me!"_ he said in German, faintly.

"Ludwig!" the teacher called. A dozen eyes watching what was unfolding before them.

Ludwig went on.

Gilbert kept sobbing.

"I don't know what's wrong, I've never known what's wrong – I'm just sorry, okay? I can't get over it, and every time I close my eyes, all I see is his face and how disappointed he was...and...and"

"_No! Gilbert, brother, calm down please. Where are you?"_ Ludwig panicked.

There was the distinctive sound of a train in the back.

"_GILBERT! Please, dammit, where are you!? Don't do anything stupid, please. Don't do this to me!"_

"LUDWIG! Phones are forbidden in class, hang up **now**!"

The blonde stood up.

"_DAMMIT GILBERT! Don't do this to me! I need you! PLEASE!" _he could barely breath now, his stomach was so tight and his throat so clogged. This was fear.

Sobs began to quieten down on the other end – "It's okay, it's okay. I'm just going to the doctor's okay, to see if they can help me or something. I want to do this for you. I want to be clean. Be, like, even more awesome" Gilbert gave a rough laugh.

Ludwig could finally breathe again.

"Be safe".

Gil hung up.

"DETENTION!"

A ruler smacked down on Ludwig's desk, the teacher attached to it looking absolutely livid.

* * *

**I should note that I don't know if ALL Asian's like shuffling… I'm just making a joke about it based on a group of Filipino's I know. They're awesome people, seriously. They all shuffle at parties – it is the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my entire life. A couple guys even did a song and dance number for one of their friends.**

**Why am I so dance-tarded? WHY!?**

***********

**IN OTHER NEWS: _Syous99_ WON my little game by answering RoChu (ah, do you not like RoChu? I love it, I love it so...). So, she wins a oneshot! Yay! =D**

**Thanks for those who played, haha, I know it's dorky – I just like doing things for laughs. And hey, if you can win something funny then why not give it a shot? I'll think of another game soon!!**

**EDIT: Why do I keep writing Da instead of Ja!!? Maybe it's because I have no interest in those languages... to difficult for me...**


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten:

Ludwig, seated in the spare English room on the west side of the Arts block, was mentally punching himself. Mentally punching himself and throwing in an eye gouge, for good measure. Why? Because he was here – in detention.

Really, he should have been either at home doing chores or studying at his desk. Even making dinner for Gilbert and the dogs. Not doing the same ridiculous English question sheet from earlier on, surrounded by a bunch of delinquents and one half of the Vargas twins.

This sucked.

People were throwing paper planes, swearing and talking about how trashed they were going to get later on in the night. The German paled; he didn't want to be lumped in with this sort of crowd. He was a good guy! Great grades, perfect physique, liked animals, cooked and ironed, still pure when it came to … ah, sexual… situations. Ludwig placed his head on the desk – he was now tarred with the same brush as this unruly mob.

Woe.

"Eh, it's not so bad, really" whispered Feliciano Vargas, leaning over from the desk on Ludwig's right. A soft smile on his bright face. There was a pink tinge on the boy's cheeks, it made him look lively, fresh, even rather cute.

Ludwig looked away. You weren't supposed to socialize in detentions, after all.

This seemed to encourage the small Italian on further, "Mah, don't be upset. Everyone comes here at least once – I'm always here!"

The blonde wanted to crawl into the floor and disappear.

"…I guess it has something to do with my attention span" the brunette giggled, " I'm always forgetting things and, ah, just spacing out! Ve~, how strange! Oh, and I run away when I'm scared of things, but that makes sense, no?" Feliciano grinned over at the German boy.

It was a rather infectious grin.

"I didn't intend to be here" frowned Ludwig.

"Nobody ever does!" laughed the other.

Smiling, Feliciano stood up, dragging his table closer to Ludwig's – or at least attempting to. His thin arms strained as he pulled hard on the relatively light desk, an exhausted red blush rising to his face as his cheeks puffed up.

"Hrrrn!!" he gasped, the desk squeaking in unison with him.

In the end, Ludwig leant over and pulled it for him. "Here" he muttered, lining up their desks. A smile, if only a faint one, crossed Ludwig's lips as Feliciano beamed across at him.

"Ahh, thank you so much! Grazie! Grazie!" the tiny boy exclaimed, plonking down beside him. "You are very strong too, aren't you? Haha! Molto alto!"

"Pardon?"

"You are very tall".

"Ah, yes. It's hereditary" the German said, looking down at his work. His face felt hot. "Y…" he began, pausing to look over at the spaced out Italian, "Y-you're very short".

"Si, it is – as you say- hereditary! Haha!" he was so joyous. It was crazy.

Did this boy ever stop smiling?

A bell rang, dismissing the class. Ludwig, desperate to escape the room and all that was associated with it, flung his books into his bag, dashing out before his companion had even put down his pen.

With big strong strides the German boy worked his way through the halls, nearly ripping open his locker when he found it. Several books and half a dozen spare pens being unceremoniously flung in, before, with a calmer, more Ludwig-ish change of heart, he restacked them all nicely.

Tidiness was essential if you wanted to work at peak performance.

And there was something about straightening up a line of pens by colour, shape and size that made the blue-eyed teenager unwind. His heartbeat slowed, his breath mellowed out and he felt a lot cooler. He also felt rather silly for having worked himself up like that in the first place.

But that was done, now he had to go catch up on all the things he'd missed while being in –ugh- detention.

Throwing his satchel over his shoulder, Ludwig turned around. He was ready to leave this place. Instead, he was left looking at a small, familiar little Italian boy panicking in the intersection of the halls.

"Eh, eh…" Feliciano was nearly crying, turning back and forth with his hands on his head.

Where was he!?

"Are you okay?" Ludwig boomed down the corridor. Feliciano didn't seem to hear.

The German moved closer.

"Are you okay!?" he asked again, making the other boy look up. Feliciano seemed frozen for a little, unsure what to say, then, without warning, he burst into a torrent of tears.

"I can't find my locker. I can't find it! I'm lost!" he cried, staggering forward.

Ludwig stepped back, shocked. He watched the crying boy come up to him, taking one of his big pale hands in his little slender one. Feliciano held it tight.

"I can't find my locker… it has my keys in it and my map home" – Ludwig felt a tight pang somewhere in his chest. This poor kid, he really needed some help.

"Do you remember your locker number?"

"No – but my brother writes it on my socks" was the reply, with Feliciano doubling over to read the scribbled black ink that adorned the inside of his sock.

64-8A.

That wasn't too far from the drama rooms, if Ludwig knew rightly.

He squeezed the Italian boy's hand. "Come on, I'll help you".

*******

Feliciano talked the whole way there – gibbering and jabbering about nonsense that Ludwig wasn't particularly interested in, but, for the sake of politeness, listened to anyway.

He didn't mind it, really.

Nobody at school had ever talked to him like this before.

"So, my name is Feliciano! Mi chiamo Feliciano!" the brunette suddenly said, tugging at Ludwig's hand. The blonde was silent, gears whizzing around in his head. Was that Italian?

"My name is Ludwig… Meh key-yamo Ludwig."

The dark eyed Feliciano smiled softly, much differently from the great big toothy smile that normally covered half his face.

"Piacere – it's nice to meet you"

Without warning he picked up the pace, skipping forward and letting go of Ludwig's hand. Ludwig ran after him. Leather shoes slapping down on the linoleum flooring as Ludwig pushed his legs harder and faster. For all his training and exercise, the blonde couldn't keep up with the smaller boy. Nearly careening into him when Feliciano stopped outside a drama room door.

Slamming his heels down, Ludwig swung his arms wide, stopping just short of Feliciano. The force of his stride flinging him up onto his tiptoes, chest and stomach sucked in to stop himself hitting the person in front. Scooped over, his chin brushed the top of the Italian kid's head.

He smelt good. Like apples and warmth and something that Ludwig couldn't seem to put his finger on.

Cinnamon?

"Ve! It's Lovi! Ludwig, it's my brother!" excitedly gasped the Italian, hands pressed to his chest.

Ludwig sank back down, his hands grazing Feliciano's shoulders before he brought them back to his sides. The German let out all his breath, gasping for more air after.

"Let's go in!"

* * *

**AN: I am so sorry - the last couple days have been a bit crazy for me! I'm about to start uni again and I'm trying to do as much work as I can because, frankly, I'm kind of broke. Why broke? Because I'm saving to go to Europe! So I guess that's a plus.**

**Still, I'm sorry. I'll update sooner!!**

**And, also, I'm in the process of write a oneshot for Syous99 who guessed that I'm a RoChu shipper. Hopefully it's done soon. This is the first time I've sat down to write in ages!**

**Be good, and eat your greens. =D**


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